


As Girls Go

by parenthetical



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/F, Genderswap, Smut, girl!Dean, spn: season three
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-04-10
Updated: 2008-04-10
Packaged: 2017-10-02 01:22:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/parenthetical/pseuds/parenthetical
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bela smiled. "Everyone wins."</p><p>Dean hated that smile. It always meant trouble. Usually for him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	As Girls Go

**Author's Note:**

> Set sometime shortly after episode 3.06 - Red Sky At Morning, but no real spoilers. Genderswap femmeslash.

"Why?"

"Five thousand dollars isn't reason enough?"

Well, when she put it like that...

~*~

Dean was kind of surprised that Sam didn't completely veto the idea of going along with Bela's plan, but then again Sam had been slamming his laptop closed every time Dean walked into the room for days now. He would probably be glad to have some time to himself (whether for research or watching hot lesbian porn, Dean didn't know).

"What exactly is it you want?" Sam asked.

"An artefact," Bela said. "Or half of one, really. I have one half already, but the other is in a museum. It shouldn't be difficult to steal, but it's a two person job."

"What kind of artefact?" Sam insisted.

"Dedicated to one of the Greek gods, nothing dangerous," Bela said dismissively. "But there's still a bit of power in it, so it would be _much_ better off in the hands of someone with some understanding of what they're dealing with." She smiled. "Everyone wins."

Dean hated that smile. It always meant trouble. Usually for him.

"It'll be simple," Bela continued, turning the smile on him. _Great, here we go_. "We'll do it exactly like the last one - there's a fundraising function at the museum tonight. What do you say?"

Dean looked at Sam, who looked back at him.

"Fine," Dean said. Then, as her smile widened, he added, "But you leave the half of the artefact you've already got here with Sam. Just as insurance."

Bela's smile wavered, then strengthened again. "Why, Dean, anyone would think you didn't trust me."

~*~

Dean _hated_ getting dressed up like this. It was uncomfortable, he looked ridiculous, and the way Bela's gaze lingered on him made him want to reconsider his resolution not to have sex with her.

The thing was, Bela was hot, and she didn't seem the kind to harbour any illusions about relationships. But she was also a dangerous, backstabbing bitch with no morals whatsoever, and Dean was fairly certain that sleeping with her would be a Bad Move. No matter how hot he imagined it would be.

"Relax, we'll have you out of that outfit in no time," Bela murmured, her eyes sparkling as he glared at her. She took his arm, moving close enough for him to smell her perfume.

Definitely a Bad Move, Dean reminded himself, and let her steer him into the party.

~*~

One incompetent guard was all the good luck they needed to let them slip away. They didn't even have to do the thing where Bela pretended to faint and Dean carried her away to rest, with endlessly tempting opportunities to knock her head against something solid or cop a feel in the process. Dean was almost disappointed. He'd spent a lot of time trying to decide which would be more satisfying.

"This way," Bela murmured, all business now, and led the way through the museum.

The contents of the display case she stopped at didn't look particularly impressive: a roundish, polished stone, only a few inches wide. "That's it?"

"That's it," Bela confirmed. "Think you can handle the alarm? I could always..."

Dean glared at her, then slipped on a pair of gloves and got to work. It took him less than two minutes to disable it, and he straightened up with a smug grin.

Bela dipped her head in mocking acknowledgment. "Right, then. You lift up the case and I'll take the -"

"Oh no," Dean interrupted. "_You_ lift the case. _I'll_ take the stone. You can have it when we get our money."

Bela glared at him. "Dean, it -"

"Not up for negotiation, Bela," he said firmly. "We're doing this my way."

Bela stared at him, then gave a sweetly poisonous smile. "Fine. We'll do it your way." She reached out for the display case, carefully adjusting her grip so that her gloved hands didn't slip on the glass, and lifted it up.

Dean grabbed the stone and slipped it into his pocket; once Bela had put the glass back into place, he crouched down and reset the alarm. The longer it took security to notice something was wrong, the better.

"Shall we?" Bela enquired, and started back in the direction of the party.

Dean followed her, stripping off his gloves. "So, you think we'll be able to just slip past the guards again?" He shoved the gloves back into his pocket, feeling his fingers brush against something cold and smooth as he did so.

He didn't even have a chance to wonder whether touching the stone was a good idea before he felt a shockwave rippling through him. He was distantly aware that the yell he was hearing was his own, but he was losing his grip on the rest of the world, slumping to the floor as his body flashed cold then hot.

When it receded, he found himself lying on his back in the middle of the hallway, his body still trembling with the after-effects of whatever the hell that had been. Bela was crouching next to him, still looking immaculate in her black dress, her wide eyes the only sign that something was wrong.

"What the hell was -" Dean started to ask, and stopped at the sound of his voice, weirdly high-pitched. He cleared his throat experimentally. "The _fuck_?" He pressed a hand to his throat in shock, then lifted the hand to stare at it. _What the..._

Bela took a deep breath and seemed to snap out of her surprise. "We've got about one minute before a guard gets here to see what that racket was. Get up, quick." She grabbed Dean's hand and pulled him to his feet.

Dean wavered on his feet, his balance shot, and tried to take in what the hell had happened to him. All of his clothes were suddenly so large as to be slipping off him, Bela was several inches taller than she should be, and -

"I'm a fucking _girl_?!" he demanded, half-hoping he was hallucinating the whole thing, though the pitch of his panicked voice suggested otherwise. He patted frantically at his chest (unfamiliar swell of breasts) and slid his hand down towards where his cock should have been.

"_Dean_," Bela hissed, and shoved him up against the wall. Dean wobbled and almost fell, too unfamiliar with his changed body to keep his balance, but Bela's hands grasped his arms and held him upright. "We don't have time for this. A guard will be here any moment - take your clothes off, _now_."

Dean stared at her.

"Oh, for -" Bela muttered, and began pulling off his clothes herself. Dean was still too stunned to stop her - besides, his clothes were now so big on him that Bela had no trouble tugging them off.

The sound of footsteps could be heard approaching from the direction of the party. Bela let out a loud, convincing moan, pulling off her gloves and tugging one spaghetti strap of her dress down over her shoulder. Before Dean could even process _that_, Bela pressed herself right up against him and yanked him into a kiss.

Her mouth was uncompromising against his, absolutely demanding a response. Dean couldn't help a slight gasp of surprise, and Bela took immediate advantage, her tongue sweeping into his mouth. Dean kissed back dazedly. He didn't know what the hell was going on, but going along with it seemed the only plan for now.

Then one of Bela's hands slid down to cover one of his breasts, and Dean had to grab hold of her upper arms for support. Just _having_ breasts was still a shock to the system; having someone touch them was overwhelming in its unfamiliarity, sending heat flushing through his body. Bela scraped a fingernail across the nipple, and Dean threw his head back with a loud moan, his whole body shuddering with sensation.

"Hello, ladies."

Dean decided to concentrate on breathing and staying upright while Bela dealt with the security guard. This was her stupid plan. _Jesus_.

"Oh - good evening, Officer," Bela said. Her voice was breathless and tinged with wry amusement. "I'm sorry, I know we're not meant to be back here, we just..."

"Yes, I'm, uh, afraid I'm going to have to ask you to leave," the guard said, his voice slightly dazed.

Dean turned his head and saw the man staring at them unabashedly, eyes glued to Dean's body and the curve of Bela's breast where she'd pulled her dress down. He felt his cheeks burn and looked at Bela instead.

"Of course," Bela said, then bit her lip coyly and smiled at the guard flirtatiously. "Unless, that is... you'd like to join us?"

Dean wasn't sure whether his eyes or the guard's were wider, but Bela traced a hand over the curve of his breast and down his side, and Dean had to catch his breath and bite back another moan. Bela smiled at him, eyes sparkling with promise and mischief, then turned her smile on the security guard.

"Well now," the guard said, taking a step closer, his eyes still drinking in the sight of them together. "I guess it would be rude to make a lovely pair of ladies like you leave right away..." His hand dropped to his uniform as he walked towards them, working on the first button.

Bela pulled away from Dean, as if she was about to reach out to the security guard. Dean tensed in readiness.

The guard was laughably easy to take out, his eyes so glued to the swell of Bela's breast that he never even noticed her fist until it smashed into his face. Dean jumped forward and delivered a second blow, one which - while not quite up to his usual standards - was enough to make the guard slide to the floor, unconscious.

"Quick - there's a storeroom, let's drag him in there," Bela said, all business once again.

Dean was struggling to catch up with everything that was going on, but he saw the sense in her suggestion and grabbed the guard's shoulders, huffing as he underestimated how difficult it would be to lift that weight in this body. "What the hell was all that about?"

Bela took hold of the guard's feet, and together they manoeuvred him over to the storeroom. "We needed an explanation for the way you yelled before. And a distraction to keep him from noticing those were men's clothes on the floor, and get him in range."

"Oh," Dean said. It kind of made sense, except for the part which had involved Bela's hands on him, and... Jesus. He tried to concentrate on the matter at hand. "I guess we'd better tie him up."

"No, I've got a better idea," Bela said, and smiled at him. "You have a flask, don't you? With alcohol in it?"

"Yes," Dean admitted cautiously.

"If you found this guy passed out in here, stinking of booze, and claiming two women had invited him to have sex with them before knocking him out," Bela suggested, "would you die laughing before or after you fired him?"

~*~

"Well," Bela said, closing the door to the women's bathroom behind them, "we should be able to wait here and then sneak out when the party finishes -"

Dean slammed her up against the tiled wall, taking great satisfaction in the fact that he was still able to do so, despite his current... predicament. "What the hell did that thing do to me?" he demanded.

"It turned you into a woman," Bela answered calmly, looking far too amused. "You might have noticed."

Dean tightened his grip on her shoulders. "What is that stone? How do we change me back?"

Bela sighed. "It's dedicated to the Greek god Hermaphroditos."

"Hermaphroditos?" Dean repeated. "Wasn't he the one who..." His eyes widened, and he reached down towards his crotch again. _Jesus, what if -?_

Bela laughed. "You're not a hermaphrodite, Dean. I think the security guard might have been a bit less keen to join us if you were. I told you, this stone is only half of the artefact. The half representing female energy."

Dean glared at her. "You knew this would happen, didn't you?"

Bela's lips twitched. "I had an inkling. But you did insist on being the one to take the stone..." Her eyes flickered over him mischievously. "You make a very attractive woman, if it's any consolation."

Dean was abruptly reminded that he was naked. He flushed and released his grasp on her, and walked over to where he'd dumped his clothes on the floor. His white shirt was the first thing that looked like it might actually stay on, so he pulled it on and fastened up the buttons as best he could. His fingers were shaking slightly.

"How do we turn me back?" he demanded again, when he felt a bit less naked.

"Well, if I had the other stone with me, we could change you back now and get out of here," Bela said. "But you did _insist_ that I leave it in your motel room. So it looks like you're stuck like this for now."

"So the other stone has... 'male energy', or whatever?" Dean demanded. If his manhood was at stake, he wanted to be pretty damn clear about this. "And touching it will change me back again?"

"In theory, yes," Bela said, and walked across to the counter with the sinks, resting against it.

"In _theory_?"

Bela rolled her eyes. "It's hardly as if I've tried it myself, but given that this stone has worked so effectively..." Her gaze travelled over Dean's body again. "...I would say the other stone should be able to counter it just as effectively. So stop panicking. If I'm going to be stuck in here with you for the next few hours, I'd just as soon not have to put up with that."

"In theory," Dean muttered again under his breath, incredulous, but did his best to put it out of his mind. The other stone would work because it _had_ to, so there was no point in worrying about it for now. He might as well be cool. And calm.

He started pacing instead, doing his best to avoid looking into the mirrors hanging over the sinks. He really wasn't sure he wanted to see what he looked like.

Even walking was a constant reminder, though. His stride was shorter now; his movements were awkward and off-balance because of his unfamiliarity with his new body. All of his senses seemed heightened, as if they hadn't quite figured out which sensations were normal and could safely be ignored. He could feel his weirdly long hair brushing against the nape of his neck, sending a tingling sensation across his spine. His dress shirt was brushing against his ass and rubbing against his nipples, and he couldn't seem to shut those feelings out.

And even if he was trying to put the memory of it out of his mind, his traitorous new body was still remembering very clearly how it had felt, having Bela pressed up against him, and the way his body had reacted when she'd touched him.

"It's funny, you know," Bela said. He could feel her amused gaze on him, but he didn't look across at her. "For some reason, I thought you'd be more fun than this."

Dean did his best to ignore her.

"I mean, here you are. A woman for a night," Bela continued. "I would have expected any man in your position to take advantage of the situation."

"I would expect any man in my position to be freaking out about _being a chick_," Dean muttered.

Bela sighed and stood up, crossing the room towards him. Dean kept on trying to ignore her, right up until she put her hands on his shoulders and spun him around to face the mirrors.

"Look at yourself," Bela said, low against his ear. "I never thought I'd see the day Dean Winchester was scared to look at a pretty girl."

Dean snapped his head up to glare at her in the mirror, because he wasn't _scared_, he was -

\- Wow. He was _hot_.

It was weird, because he still looked so much himself, but so different at the same time. Those were his eyes, and his nose and mouth. The hair was still his colour, even if it was falling down around his shoulders. But the curves beneath the shirt... well, those weren't his. But yeah, they were hot.

Bela stepped in closer, until he could feel her breasts pressing up against his back, her body warm through the thin material of his shirt. Dean couldn't look away from the two of them together in the mirror, the way Bela's eyes were gleaming, the flush in his cheeks. Bela was smiling again, the same smile that always spelled trouble for him, but this time Dean thought it might at least be a more enjoyable kind of trouble.

"You can't tell me you haven't thought about it," Bela said. "Fantasised about two women together? Though you probably didn't imagine you'd be one of them." She trailed one hand down from Dean's shoulder, tracing the curve of his side and curling forward around his waist, almost an embrace. Dean couldn't stop himself from shuddering, his whole body still sensitised and unfamiliar.

"You've got to be wondering," Bela continued. "About how it feels, from this side of things. About how I could _make_ you feel, right now." Her fingernails trailed lightly over his stomach and Dean felt the muscles jump in response, and okay, that was _it_.

Dean started to turn, but Bela's arm tightened around his waist, holding him in place against her. "Not quite yet," Bela said, her voice low and amused. "Watching something like this is one of your fantasies, right?" She held his gaze in the mirror. "So watch."

Dean's eyes widened as he watched - and felt - Bela's hand snake higher, slowly working each button on his shirt free. It was strange, watching his body being revealed - him and yet not him at the same time. Strange, but Bela wasn't wrong - it was hot as hell to watch, too.

Plus, he had an _awesome_ rack, if he did say so himself. Wow.

He started to shrug off the shirt to get a better look, but Bela was faster, cupping his right breast in her hand, thumb rubbing at the nipple through the thin fabric of his shirt. Dean inhaled sharply and bit his lip at the shock of the sensation, closing his hand around her wrist, not sure himself whether he meant to hold her hand there or pull it away.

"That's it," Bela murmured. "Look at you, Dean. Look how flushed you are." She pushed the fabric aside, finally giving them both a clear view of his breasts, and Dean stared at himself in the mirror. Yeah, he was hot. And Bela was right, the flush extended all the way down to his chest.

Bela took a step back to ease the shirt back off his shoulders and let it drop to the floor. Dean shivered as the fabric grazed against his body as it fell, and then Bela was pressed up against him again, still in her black dress and high heels, such a vivid contrast in the mirror to his own nudity. He was happy enough to let Bela call the shots for now - because she was right, this was hot - but he had every intention of getting her out of that fancy dress and mussing up her hair afterwards.

She cupped his breasts in her hands and lowered her head to press hot lips and sharp teeth against his neck. Dean gasped and let himself lean back against her, staring dazedly at the mirror as Bela rubbed his nipples with her thumbs, then rolled them between thumb and forefinger. The shock of unfamiliar sensation was _intense_; Dean couldn't stop the low moan that was ripped from his throat, and his head fell back onto Bela's shoulder as he fought for breath.

"Oh, I _like_ you like this," Bela murmured, low and laughing, and ran her hands over his breasts before returning to his nipples again, stealing away the breath he needed for whatever retort he would have made.

It was so different from being touched that way normally. He'd always known chicks got off on it, but it had been hard to imagine what it was really like; someone touching his nipples was nice, yeah, but not _wow_. This, though... He could feel heat running through his body, something starting to throb between his legs, as if his nipples were hardwired _right there_. Jesus.

He forced himself to raise his head again, because he didn't want to miss seeing any of this, particularly when Bela released one of his breasts in favour of tracing down across his stomach again and then on down to his thigh. She grazed her fingernails lightly up his inner thigh, and Dean couldn't help another moan, pleasure pulsing through him as she rolled his nipple again with her other hand. He spread his legs further apart almost on instinct, leaning more of his weight back against her.

"That's it," Bela said approvingly. She slid her hand slowly upward and then slipped a finger _right there_, right where his body had been wanting it, and Dean couldn't stop himself from crying out, his hips jerking at the sensation. A moment later her finger moved on, shifting lower, and Dean realised for the first time how wet he was as she slid her finger through the slickness, spreading the moisture around and up for another pass over his clit that left Dean shaking and gasping.

"Not going to last long, are you," Bela observed. Her smile was far too amused, but Dean was beyond caring. "Don't worry, Dean. I won't make any judgements about your stamina. Women don't _need_ to hold out." She dipped a second finger into his wetness, stroking it up over him and circling lightly over his clit, and _Jesus fucking Christ_, Dean really wasn't going to last long at all, because that pattern was sending heat and sensation flooding through him.

His head thudded back against Bela's shoulder again, and this time he couldn't muster the control to lift it. Instead, he concentrated on keeping his eyes open a fraction, enough to see the heat in Bela's gaze in the mirror, her hand between his legs, the polished thumbnail of her other hand scraping lightly across one nipple and then the other. The combined sensations were irresistible and building, building, and though he could hear himself moaning and gasping, he was powerless to stop. It was all so unfamiliar, and all the more overpowering for that.

Bela did _something_ with her hand, pressed a little harder, and Dean cried out as every muscle went rigid, his body tensing and jerking as he came. It was exactly like he was used to and yet nothing like it: an overwhelming wave of sensation that just didn't seem to stop, going on and on as Bela's fingers continued to send jolts through his body.

Coming down took a while. When Dean managed to open his eyes, the reflection in the mirror made him catch his breath again. Bela was almost holding him up, one arm locked around his waist, while her other hand trailed light patterns across his thighs. Dean himself looked flushed and utterly wrecked; he looked like someone he'd quite badly want to fuck, if he were himself.

He met Bela's gaze in the mirror. She was smiling smugly, but he could see the flush in her cheeks and the arousal in her eyes, feel her breath coming faster against his neck. She looked like someone he quite badly wanted to fuck, too.

"How much longer do you think we're stuck here?" he asked.

"At least another three or four hours, I'd imagine," Bela said, without bothering to glance at her watch.

Dean grinned. "Good." He turned and abruptly pressed her up against the counter, and set to work on getting her out of that goddamn dress.

He sure hoped Sammy was enjoying _his_ lesbian porn.


End file.
